


Tinker Bell

by roguefaerie (samidha)



Series: Finding Home Away From Home (GQ/NB Dean Winchester with Shadow Moon Fics) [1]
Category: American Gods (TV), American Gods - Neil Gaiman, Gabriel (2007), Norse Religion & Lore, Once Upon a Time (TV), Peter Pan & Related Fandoms, Supernatural
Genre: AU, Angels are not Dicks, Anger, Background Relationships, Bad Parent John Winchester, Because I Brought In Angels From Another Fandom Basically, Book 1, Calling on the Gods, Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Children, Codependency, College Student Dean, Coming Out, Coming Out is Never a One Time Deal, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Dark Peter Pan, Dean Doesn't Get to Do What He Wants As Usual, Dean Doesn't Know, Dean Winchester Raises Sam Winchester, Dean at Protests, Dean raised Sam, Dean-Centric, Does Barely Simmering Anger Count For a Tag, Eventual Activism, Eventual Anarchism, Evil Peter Pan, Fae Dean Winchester, Fae Gender, Faerie Dean Winchester, Finding any and all humans fascinating, Gen, Gender Identity, Gender Issues, Genderqueer Character, Genderqueer Dean Winchester, Identity Issues, Internalized Transphobia, Long and Slow Process, Mead, Mirrors, Moderated Comments, Mute Dean, Mute Dean Winchester, Muteness, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Dean, Novella in 2 Parts, One of My Favorites, POV Queer Character, POV Second Person, Panromantic Dean Winchester, Personhood, Peter Pan Sam, Queer Character, Queer Gen, Queerplatonic Relationships, Roommates, Sam Has Powers, Sam is a minor character, Smart Dean, Student Dean, Teenagers, Teenchesters, The End is in Book 2, The Gods Show Up, Transphobia, Trying to Come Out When the Conversations Were More Rare, Weechesters, dean doesn't know who he is, folk magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-11-20 20:40:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 10,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11342808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samidha/pseuds/roguefaerie
Summary: “I offer you the worm from my beak and you look at me like I fucked your mom?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sirensnares](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirensnares/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Northern Exposure (Tinker Bell Book 2)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11577768) by [roguefaerie (samidha)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samidha/pseuds/roguefaerie). 



> ETA: This (P1) has 4 chapters. P2-P4 are also up now. Check chapters for subtitles/part titles. I have several f
> 
> I set this up as a series, but I feel like people who subscribed may be losing out on the additional parts I wrote, so they're now being added as chapters here.
> 
> This series is AU in subtle but significant ways. Don't worry, more AG characters are coming.  
> This series is also AU in the sense that the SPN comics had a strong influence on the writer, though without reading them all, and so....hopefully you won't mind comic compliance.  
> Final note: Have some consideration for the darker implications of Peter Pan....
> 
> All I can do lately is write these wee crossovers/fusions.
> 
> By the way this has nothing to do with the tag of Odin for Supernatural because I didn't even know he shows up in an episode and part of my inspiration for writing this is a long-simmering frustration about handling of "pagan" gods and the inexplicability of the writers going so far down this bizarre Christian mythos hole the show is presently in. I'm a long-time fan who comes and goes and it did not start out like this and did not need to go like this and I feel they're letting down polytheist/pagan and mythology-enthusiast fans in general. 
> 
> I'm moderating tf out of these comments. If you don't understand my portrayal of Sam you can handle that yourself, as I've been the emotional abuse survivor of someone like Sam Winchester. And I've also done a lot of hand-holding/raising of younger siblings. Neither of these brothers are saints. Moving on. Do I think the writers have been fair to Sam, no I don't, do I think they've been fair to Dean? No I don't. Do the wars over a favorite character drive me batfuck? Yes. I left in part because of them. These are two neglected kids. That is what I write about.
> 
> These comments are also moderated because if you think for a second you've found a kindred supremacist spirit because I can write Norse stories in my sleep, you are wrong.
> 
> I write what I know, so heed the tags.
> 
> Probably nobody wants this, and the order got, well, out of order, and I don't have energy to fix it at this exact moment, but here's the soundtrack to this thing, which is turning into a novella (a 'verse that will eventually end but there's lots to do yet.).
> 
> Writing this is my happy place, and I'm not going to pretend this has a very structured writing process. It might annoy some people. I do not really care. I'm probably writing it the same way that I wrote previous series, which means it will take a while to resolve itself and will have many chapters. Part of that is just how my writing proces works for a variety of reasons, and my work is not for everyone. THIS IS PROBABLY THE QUEEREST THING I'VE EVER WRITTEN. Also, it is not a completely balanced crossover, because not every character is in every chapter, and I've never promised to write balanced crossovers.
> 
> PS: When you think Peter Pan, think the one from Once Upon a Time....
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/user/121274586/playlist/1QphAAKdeZDPYV2ODFe84g

You are four years old and alone in a room with two beds and your little brother. You ate the last twinkie yesterday. He wants one, makes grabby hands and says, “Tink,” so many times in a row. You want to tell him you are not a faerie and you can’t make pastry out of thin air but you don’t have as many words as you want, either.

Actually, you have none, but you’re with him and he is only getting his now. You gave yours away.

You don’t cry. You don’t ask for your mama. You saw where she went.

But you get water for him and for you and when you’re carrying the second paper cup tippingly from the bathroom sink to the end table you see it.

A Twinkie in a wrapper.

You spend the rest of the night forcing it open and give the smashed bits to him.

He smiles. Tink.

*~*~*

Now he’s pretty sure you’ll always do that. Sit up all night and make magic cupcakes fall from the sky as soon as he wants them.

He’s six and he’s pissed. Pissed at dad, pissed at you, pissed at the wall. He kicks the wall. You let him because you’re pissed too. And too tired to talk. If you had a real house you’d look for scrambled porn just for something to do.

Tink. 

It only worked one time but it was kind of cool and funny and made you feel like something was there, maybe something good.

You look in the mirror and something’s weird about your eye. Something’s weird about your face.

Something’s weird about _you_.

You look away.

Something’s weird about you.

After that you don’t want to think about Tink or Peter Pan or people with an eye that doesn’t look right.

But you keep thinking about it all anyway. In the back of your head a tape runs. A tape of Grabby Hands McGee and that one time you actually did for a second make it better and you were only four.

So you should be able to now. You know it wasn’t you-- it was-- it was-- the thing that was weird about you.

The thing that was weird about you.

*~*~*

He’s thirteen and you are exhausted. In the back of the car is a hibachi and a hot plate and you’re almost legal to have the keys so you do when you need to to get the stuff and you magic up food from pennies because that’s what you do, pennies and nickles and dimes, quarters, vending machine levels of cash that you have the nerve to pinch from odd jobs every few states. The money is yours but it’s not yours. It was theirs.

You remember when you could do coin tricks and make the squirt laugh. You’ve forgotten them now.

You could run away.

Somebody’s been saying that, whoever it is that looks back when you see him in the corner of your eye, in the mirror.

You won’t.

You can’t.

He’s only thirteen. He hasn’t had to steal. He just knows you get the food. You get the food and he lets you know when it’s been Little Debbie’s too often, and then you switch it, somehow, some way, you always do.

You could be your own person. Even if you wanted to be a dwarf. You could be a dwarf, dig and send it home, you could be a giant and pluck it out of the sky, the clouds, you could be something.

But you can’t, you won’t, you’re just a human boy and you’re his mother and father (dad’s been gone for weeks) and this is how it is, one room, one TV, one sink, one paper cup, one remote, sometimes two beds is the only two you have.

The man with one open eye stares at you and waits.

He could teach you poetry, he could teach you magic, he could teach you to shift your is-ness, he learned that from his own family. His own family.

You could have your own family. Your own things, your own car, your own gender, your own goldmine. Your own personhood.

You stare back at the man with the squinted eye.

Outside the bathroom, the wall shudders again.

He is family. And you are his Tinker Bell.

“You rang, princess?”

Too much machismo, too much anger, too much of a growl.

But it covers everything you are as you bid the man with the discolored eye goodbye.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The payoff’s on Tuesday  
> I’ll follow the crows  
> There’s pennies from heaven  
> I don’t suppose  
> \- Mark Geary

You ride in the car with John. This is what you call him in his head, despite everything, or perhaps because of everything. John knows what he wants. He wants revenge. He wants closure. He wants the end for all things that resemble _that one thing_ , he wants to be a hero and a martyr.

You want food, dollar bills, a bed in one house. You want to be with the man in the mirror.

And a new name. A new life.

The radio blares AC/DC and you stare out the window.

There are two black birds following the car. They have since Flagstaff. Poof. There. And they are watching you.

You have a profound sense that you want to go home, all the while knowing there’s no way to know where it is, but maybe it’s with the birds. Maybe it’s in the sky.

Valhalla.

But have you earned it yet? You’ve heard of it, and you know tough people go there. But you have to earn it, don’t you?

You will earn it. You can go ahead and earn it beside John. And then you’ll finally get to go home.


	3. Chapter 3

You are pretending to be asleep on the bench seat beside John. He pulls up to a gas pump and stops the car, gets out without a word or a glance your way.

Time.

You open your eyes and look around for the birds (ravens you now know they are ravens). They sit at the foot of a tree some distance away.

You blink a few times. The branches of the tree are moving. Moving as if for your eyes only. You pop the passenger door and peer outside. No one else is around. The gas station lot is deserted. And the tree is waving.

It happens again at the next motel. And you watch it out the window for a whole drive through Maine.

John peers at you, sizing you up, right before he goes into a widow’s house by himself.

“Snap out of it by tonight,” he says, “Salt and burn.” He has already decided. You are tired and want to close your eyes, but you see the birds out of the corner of your eye and then they land under a tree in the front of her yard.

You open the door and run to them. They don’t move.

One of them squawks and tilts its head.

“Hi,” you say. It’s the first time you’ve talked to anyone in a while.

You flop down in the grass. What’s John going to do to you?

Actually, you don’t want to know, but you will worry about that later.

You could run away before you have to find out. The idea comes to you on the wind. Again.

Remember, the wind says, and the tree bends and waves.

A car passes close to the tree and you catch its bumper sticker out of the corner of your eye, purple that says, Be Yourself.

Yeah. Right.

You could try it. You could be you, Tinker Bell or no.

Your mind flashes on your little brother as emotions wash over you.

No. You won’t. You won’t let them decide what a freak you are. You just have to get through this hunt.

*~*~*

In the library, you’re supposed to be going through microfiche. A book falls from the top shelf and onto the floor.

Norse Mythology.

You don’t have a card in Nebraska, but you’re good at repurposing items. This one time you can do it. Loki would, right?

Loki definitely would.

You steal the shit out of that thing.

*~*~*

You are reading about Thor in a dress when you laugh long and hard enough to wake John and your brother and you do not even care.

_Like me. They are just like me._

You think of lace or tulle against your skin. And you finally breathe.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As I row, row, row  
> Going so slow, slow, slow  
> Just down below me is the old sea  
> Just down below me is the old sea  
> Nobody knows, knows, knows  
> So many things, things, so  
> So out of range  
> Sometimes so strange  
> Sometimes so sweet  
> Sometimes so lonely
> 
> The further I go  
> More letters from home never arrive  
> And I'm alone  
> All of the way  
> All of the way  
> Alone and alive
> 
> You just have to go, go, go  
> Where I don't know, know, know  
> This is the thing  
> Somebody said,  
> Somebody told me  
> A long time ago
> 
> \- Patty Griffin

You think for a second that if they really knew, you’d just be gone. You’d just not have a place in the Impala anymore. You think of Sam being alone with John all the time and you feel sick. You run for the bathroom, skitter to a stop in front of the toilet, then the sink, and grab it to catch your bearings.

The man in the mirror is there.

Odin.

Odin is there.

“I am the Allfather,” he says, as you stare up at him, nauseated and crying. “Heed my words.”

And you do. Oh you do. You will.

“You are wanted.”

Where?

You don’t ask in words, you never have to ask in words.

“In Midgard. You are wanted in Midgard right now.”

Not here. Not wanted here. Not as you really are.

“There are others.”

Others?

“Others as we are. You and I. The misfits. The loners. The poets. The magicians. As you are.”

A coin surfaces on the side of the sink and you catch it without thinking before it rolls into the drain.

“You are worth much. All life is. All life.”

Odin?

“Yes.”

Will you be my father?

A soft chuckle, gritty and thick with age.

“There are many types of fathers, as there are many types of mothers, as you have been both to our Sam.”

Our Sam.

I won’t be able to leave him. Ever.

“He will fly on his own soon. He is a hunter.”

And then?

“And then, perhaps, one day, he shall find you--us--again. We have been right here the whole time.”

It was true. No matter where the Winchesters were, so too were the Norse, in all their freak flag glory.

You smile. You think of school, of college, just a fantasy now, and you’re late to the party, but maybe--maybe.

“The further you go, the closer you are to me. The further you go, the further you go. Do you understand?”

I understand.

“So go as far as you can.”

I will try.

“You will not try. You will. You simply will.” A heavy pause. “You are wanted in Midgard. All of you are, my children. Mine and Thor’s and Loki’s and Tyr’s and Frejya’s and all, all of you, all of you.”

And you understand this. This...makes sense. Sudden and in a way that you know will never be erased.

You, Dean Winchester, are worth it.

When you get to California, you won’t be Dean anymore. You’ll never not be a Winchester, but you are also Odin’s own.

“What do you wish to be called?”

You hadn’t realized he was still there, but you know he is asking in seriousness.

I wish to be called a person. And not Sam’s brother, not a brother, just a person. Just a person.

“Indeed, you will be my person, just a person, and forever my student and child.”

There is soft laughter in the distance, yet through the mirror.

A man in green surfaces behind the Allfather, and then another with one arm, and another in a dress.

Loki, Tyr, Thor.

Loki smiles. “My brother speaks wise words and I have some more for you myself.”

Oh? Oh no.

“Watch for falling rocks.” And with a chuckle he is gone.

And you will.

Sam will fly on his own and have his own battle to fight. You? You steal one of the stolen credit cards from John and board a bus west. The nightmare is over.

But you still don’t mind being called Tinker Bell. Not that much, anyway. As long as it’s not Tink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's going to be really difficult to leave this piece, but here we have the end of young Dean's journey as a nonbinary person. It's actually just beginning, but for now, I'll let him have it to himself--everyone needs their privacy, especially Dean Winchester, at least sometimes. I hope you enjoyed this. <3 I don't wanna leave this world, but this is the end requested for this topsy turvy bunny. If you resonate heavily with this due to the fact that Dean often is not allowed personhood, please know that you matter. With love from one of your genderqueer brethren who won't erase the reality that we exist.


	5. Part II. Missouri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This person is perfect. But there have been lingering effects from the way Dean grew up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I shouldn't really have to say this, but Dean is not trans because of abuse. Dean is just trans because I am allowed to write them right now. In case you are wondering, your author is not cis.  
> Very light crossover with AG in this chapter, but I wasn't going to leave any fandoms off that are involved in this series. Deeper crossover is coming.  
> Please see note on Part 1 for further author's notes/feels/thoughts on who this series is for and suchlike.

It turns out that countless hours in the Impala can’t actually prepare you for the bus--so many damn people you don’t know what to do. You get off and think about hitchhiking but you don’t want to be in anyone’s car, don’t want to feel wheels under you, so you start walking.

You go slow, and when people offer you rides you say no. You don’t really want a motel room either, but you get one in Missouri and then head for the closest thing you can find to a diner.

A woman is in there, the only one at a booth at three in the afternoon, with a legal pad and no less than 3 writing utensils in front of her -- pencil, blue pen, red pen. She tap tap taps the pencil on paper and you watch her hands, creamed coffee colored and lean and so good.

You’ve been writing too, just like Odin asks you to, writing to get it all out. Your notebook is in your backpack.

“I’ll have what she’s having,” you say, though your booth is the farthest from hers you could find. She’s having pie, and you know it’s going to come to you warm.

It turns out to be apple and you couldn’t be happier in a million years. And it _is_ warm, and comes with a scoop of ice cream.

Warm food. Perfection.

You think about it, stopping yourself mid-gesture a few times, but finally you take out your notebook. You open it to a blank page.

Across the room, the beautiful girl looks up and raises an eyebrow.

You weren’t flirting with her--were you?

Maybe she decides you were. When you get up to leave the restaurant she follows you outside. “Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah. Sure. Why?”

“You look a little shaky. How long have you been in town?”

“Came in on the…” You think better of it. “Um, I walked in this morning, I guess.”

“You look falling down tired. Do you want to rest? Do you need more food?”

Who is this person and how do people turn out so pure?

“Um, I have a room. I guess I could go catch some sleep.”

She smiles a little. “Oh.” A pause. “Good.” Another pause. “Yeah.”

You watch her, expecting more somehow.

“I’m Cassie.”

“I’m Dean, but um...well, yeah. Hi.”

Another raised eyebrow. “I sense a story.”

“You could say that.”

She watches you, considering.

“You have lonely eyes, Dean.”

“Yeah. Uh.”

“Most guys don’t admit that kind of thing.”

“I’m not really--”

“You’re not like most guys.”

“No. Um, and...yeah. I’m not.”

“Do you want some company?”

Your heart thuds in your ears.

“It’s not like we have to go to your room. We have a little park.”

You follow her there, feeling like you’re going to skid into everything, and you sit in the grass. You want to go closer to the trees but you don’t, you focus on this person who’s been so weirdly nice to you.

Later you try not to let her see your eyes when you invite her in. She would see how scared you are and how this is your first solid room since--Sam--and….

You sit on the bed and she sits on the bed and puts a hand on your arm.

“You’re shaking. A lot,” she says. “Is...is...there something that I can do?”

 

“N-no. I mean. No. But I…”

She waits.

“You’re really beautiful.”

She smiles and it is like the sun coming out and filling the whole room and you lean a little closer to her. She reaches up and touches your face. “Thank you.”

There is a pause and then you lean into it and close your eyes (she can’t see) (what’s happening behind closed eyelids)

“Hey. It’s okay.”

No it’s not, not really, you’ll probably fall apart on this beautiful person and--but--

You take her arm (please) and fall backwards onto the bed (I don’t mean anything by this just please)

“I could…” she says, and then curls into the crook of your arm herself, “How’s that?”

“It’s…”

“Yeah?”

“Wow.”

“Hey.”

“Mm?”

“It’s okay. If you need to cry. How long have you been...homeless?”

“On the road. I’ve been on the road.”

“Yeah, but how long?”

“Forever. It’s a long story. Can we--I--”

“I can hear it,” she whispers.

You sit up talking all night, and you talk about everything but Sam.

She doesn’t say too much compared to everything you say, but she’s a writer and she’s interning at the paper. And that is perfect. Everything about her is perfect.

When it’s time you think you should send her home, you’ll kiss her goodnight, but the kiss, the kiss is everything you’ve ever wanted in a moment and she kisses back fiercely.

And you do cry, a little, and she pulls you back to lie down with her and murmurs, “Okay, okay. Okay.”

*~*~*

You see her every day. You never want to leave Missouri. You never want to leave.

*~*~*

When you are together, she tucks a little of your hair behind your ear and whispers, “Tinker Bell,” and your whole body lights up.

*~*~*

You could marry this girl. You’re not that kind of person but you could anyway. For her. For this.

*~*~*

When you say, “Not there, not yet,” you don’t want to explain and she only pauses a little and doesn’t make you. And that’s perfect, too.

 

*~*~*

You drive three towns over to the thrift store--you get in the car with her and let her drive. When you’re in the back together she whispers, “Do you want a dress, Tinker Bell?” and you have to decide between breaking out in a sweat and, well, not doing that. You do, you do want a dress and now someone knows it. 

*~*~*

You don’t want to meet her mother, though. That’s heavy, that’s...something else. You tell her and she gets drunk and angry, even though she already knows about your mom and the year and change you never talked. She gets mean. Mean like John. You are starting to panic.

She really doesn’t like it that you won’t meet her family but you can’t have a family right now. That’s all it is. You didn’t know she had this meanness inside of her, but you maybe could have.

“I see how it is, Tink,” she spits, and suddenly you are up like a rocket, pacing, shaking, freaking out. You duck into the bathroom--at least it’s your bathroom--and throw up.

“Oh, sorry, was I not supposed to _call_ you that?”

Everything is horrible. You run around the room filling your backpack with all your stuff--mythology books and clothes rolled in record time. She was just drunk, but you can’t, you can’t deal with that, not yet, not yet, and not from this person.

You think of Odin, not quite wondering where he is, you just think of him and start wishing hard to be anyone--anywhere--else.

You’re gone by morning, but she was never waiting for you to say goodbye.


	6. Part III.: Cicero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean wanders into Cicero and meets Lisa playing pool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See prev. notes, they are important and getting too long to reproduce.

You’re not old enough to rent a car yet, but you refuse to miss the Impala. So you just start walking again. You’ll figure out where you’re going.

You stop in a gas station bathroom, brace yourself, stare into the mirror pointedly and let out the scream that’s been building inside you.

Jesus. Oh, Jesus.

Wrong God but they’ll get the idea, right?

That was fucking close. That was close.

Your skin hurts and you are aching all over because, dammit, you do want a goddamn dress and you don’t know why that has to be so hard. But you have to pack light, you know you haven’t landed yet.

If you’re going to land.

No. You’re going to land.

You just don’t know where yet. But it’ll be somewhere. It has to be somewhere.

You want to wait in here until Odin appears in the mirror but it could be days, so you can’t. You’ll find another one.

Mirror, mirror.

Jesus. You can’t believe you let her get that close to you. And yet...you’d do it all again. In a heartbeat.

Maybe the solution is just going mute again, not that that’s ever been a thing you could control.

Just leave. Just leave everything. Just leave everything.

But to go where?

Odin--the Allfather and your Father says that there are people for you. You want to believe him--you have to believe him.

Coin tricks. Do some coin tricks. Calm you down.

That’s an idea.

You don’t really do a trick, you just take out a nickle and start to mess with it. Hold it, roll it, spin it a little on the sink. And you breathe. You breathe again.

You want to go home. But you are home. Somehow. In this gas station bathroom you are supposed to be home.

You sigh and then get back on the road.

*~*~*

You are not going to drink. You are just not going to drink. You’ll go in the bar. Anyway, if you want to hustle pool then you need to be sober as hell.

The only person at a pool table is a woman wearing a turquois v-neck you are immediately jealous of.

Ugh. Keep it together. You have enough clothes in your bag.

Women who play pool are--well--mmhmm.

Actually it could be someone like you. Maybe. But how do you ask?

You go up to her and clear your throat. “Uh, hi.” You’re not here to hustle. Or to be drunk. Maybe that would make things easier, but you wouldn’t be yourself.

She smiles a half smile. “Hey. Wanna play? I’m fair.”

Interesting choice of words.

“I...um….”

She nods as if to prod you forward a little. “Too sober,” she says. “Have a drink.”

“I dunno, I don’t really, um, I just left home a few months ago and my dad--”

“Oh. Yeah. Okay.”

“I mean it’s not like that, I drink, just…”

“I get it,” she says and smiles.

The next thing she does proves she’s way more flexible than you.

Fascinating.

“We could get out of here,” she says, eying the crowd a little.

Your heart is thudding in your ears a little, you’re trying not to blush. What if she--finds out?

“Yeah, um…” You pause. “Yeah, okay, we could.”

“Pool’s fun but they’re not,” she says, gesturing to some rowdy people gathering around the bar.

You don’t have to look to know what she means. You follow her out to her car and only once inside do you realize you were holding your breath.

*~*~*

Two days later, you are still in Cicero. You are sitting on her couch. “I…”

“Dean.”

Your stomach lurches, “Um yeah?”

“Hey, it’s just me, calm down.”

You can’t calm down, you’ll never calm down, because what if John and Sam--they could be behind you, they could be anywhere, they’re always everywhere.

“Um...not helping,” you admit.

“There’s something you need to say.”

“I can’t. Please don’t make me. The last time--she--I loved her and she-- I can’t.”

Lisa puts an arm around you--you let her. You even remember not to flinch somehow. Oh, God, people who touch you without hurting you. You start to cry. And then you can’t stop. “My family--”

“I know. Okay. I know. Ssh. I know.”

She doesn’t know, but you let her say it, it feels okay and the tiniest bit better.

For now you’ll stay in Cicero.

Welcome to the bendiest weekend of your life.

*~*~*

After that, Lisa is all you want. You could stay here. You could.

*~*~*

You wake up on her couch in a cold sweat. You’ve been screaming in your sleep. You dreamed of being out in her yard when a cyclone hit and when you ran inside it followed you. It followed you.

If this happens again, you’ll be screaming about Sam, about John. You have to go.

You have to go. And so you do.

West. You promised your Father you would go west and enroll in school. And so you will.

You grasp a nickel in your fist to keep grounded as you leave the house that night. The note you leave doesn’t have anything on it but two words.

Thank you.

You board another bus this time. No messing around. You promised--not just the Allfather, but yourself. You promised yourself, pipe dream or not. You’re going to go to school.


	7. Part IV: Berkeley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is at school and he has an interesting roommate named Shadow Moon.

Berkeley, 2001

You love it in California. People are so--so--California-y. They’re relaxed. They’re sort of stable. Well, they seem more stable to you, sort of, but you’ve been running for your life for, well, your whole life, so maybe not.

Anyway, you cobble together transcripts from a million schools and by some magic you realize you have a GPA of 3.7. You are working as a pizza delivery “guy” and floating around the place, you eat sparingly and use most of your cash on application fees.

Something tells you, though, you’re going to Berkeley. Something just tells you. And in the end you have your pick but you pick there.

People are kind of spacey in California too. So you teach yourself computers just by goofing off in libraries for a while and then later when you have a dorm room and everything you get a job on campus that mostly consists of telling people, “That’s not the on switch for your computer,” and they screech back, “What do you mean?” Especially when you get moved up to faculty computing because they’re convinced you’re some kind of genius who should be handling the more involved cases of computer illiteracy.

You also have a roommate named Shadow, Shadow Moon, because this is California so of course you do. Of course. Shadow is nice. Like genuinely nice and it is maybe a little weird. You’re both in the same dorm room because you’re around the same age--older than the other kids. You don’t mind the dorm though, it’s kind of like a motel room and sometimes that’s better than you’ve had since you’ve been on your own. Shadow is also shy and a little skittish. You can tell he’s seen his fair share of shit too.

Sometimes people come to see Shadow, and the less said about them the better.

*~*~*

You do definitely prefer the outdoors. No walls.

*~*~*

You start playing guitar because it gives you an excuse to just sit outside under a tree on the quad. Sometimes it draws people to you, which you realize becomes increasingly weird over time. 

The first thing is you realize there are some people, maybe guys _and_ girls (or maybe none of the above but you don’t ask them) checking you out. Which means you have to evaluate when you’re checking them out. You check out everybody, because you’re you, and maybe that means you’re feeling safe.

When people ask you….well, stuff...about your stuff….you try not to flip out at them and replace a lot of things you could say with, “I don’t know,” which is sometimes an evasive maneuver and sometimes true.

One day you realize, though, the ravens aren’t here if the people are here. Loneliness smashes into you like a freight train. Alone in a crowd. It’s worse than alone to be alone.

That day, a person asks you where you learned to play guitar and you shrug. Try to be nonchalant. You just picked it up. It’s like the music is just coming to you, coming to you from somewhere else.

Somewhere else.

Then your brain skitters a little and your phone buzzes with a way too expensive text message It’s from your brother.

Sam.

Where r u?

You excuse yourself from talking to this person so intent on how your music came to you, make it look like you’re deliberately jogging up to your room, and throw your phone, hearing it smash.

Time to get a new number.

You may never play the guitar again.

Shadow can tell you’re upset that night. You watch Eddie Izzard with him and you sort of know, sort of don’t know what you’re seeing, though the guy is funny as hell, there’s something, just something. Something big.

Shadow asks you why you don’t go to meetings. You know. For people like you and him. Wait, what?

You tell him that actually you’re not sure if you’re like other people and he smiles a little. “Yeah. I know. Look, if you ever want to put anything in the closet, like I mean, you don’t have a lot of stuff or a lot of--you know--clothes.”

“Anything?”

“Sure.”

Who is this person and how did you end up roommates with them?

After that you tag along with Shadow to a meeting or two. You meet more Californian space cadets, but nobody is unintelligent or anything. This whole identity thing, they’ve thought about it a lot, the people you meet. And there are all kinds of people at the meeting. Still, you can’t really tell them why you feel like the only one like you.

You and Shadow get an apartment. You keep delivering pizzas alongside the computer tech job. Sometimes you deliver to your classmates. That’s weird, but whatever, it reminds them you’re older than them.

Your closet has a few dresses in it now that are bought with your own money, not stolen change. And you and Shadow paint a rainbow in the corner of the living room that covers part of two walls. Shadow actually has this girlfriend, Laura, but it’s cool, you pretty much like everyone, well not everyone, but everyone, you just like...stuff. People. You like people. So does Shadow.

And. And. Things might actually be good.


	8. Part V: Berkeley II.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deeper down the rabbit hole... Deeper goes the crossover....

You find Shadow sitting on the couch and drawing.

As you come in from the kitchen you peek at him. “Hey, can I see?”

“Sure,” Shadow says, then looks increasingly nervous as you inspect his work.

There’s no doubt in your mind as you look at who it is, but for some reason you ask him:

“Cool. Who’s that?”

“Mr. Wednesday.”

Mr. Wednesday?

“Funny,” you say, and then you immediately regret it because of the nervous look on Shadow’s face.

“How’d you meet him?” you ask, trying to diffuse the tension and not sure if you are succeeding.

“He just showed up. Like, you…. Wait, you believe me?”

“Yeah. Of course,” you say.

“People act...weird about it.” Shadow is still nervous and you’re suddenly realizing that this situation, whatever it is, has been bothering him. Probably one of the reasons he’s been skittish.

“Well...you’re not alone,” you say.

“Oh. Wait. Really?”

“Yeah. Um, this sounds however it sounds, but I see that guy in the mirror sometimes.”

“REALLY?”

“I can’t make it happen or anything.”

“Me either. Just sometimes...he’s around,” Shadow says. “And um.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s like he’s waiting for something. I can’t believe you know him.”

“Um. Yeah. I know him….as Odin.”

“...You do?”

“Yeah. Wednesday is Odin’s day,” you say.

“Holy wow.”

Somehow a breeze starts to blow as if a window is open in the apartment. But none are open and it’s rarely breezy like this to begin with. It’s not really a breeze. It’s a wind.

“Hello, boys….”

Both of you fall silent.


	9. VI. A Good Day's Work: Leaving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an interesting turn of events that wasn't really planned by the author because reasons. The things that happen when you just like smart Dean....
> 
> After finishing Of Dreams and Demons (enjoy), a sort of unintended Big Bang from 2008-2011, this is the author's new happy place. So there will be a lot of these small pieces of 'verse, sort of linear, and I have a vague plan but no outline, so...brace yourselves. lol. I hope you are enjoying it.
> 
> This series has moderated comments due to several elements in the subject matter.
> 
> Adding crossover bits as I go, so no characters from Gabriel (2007) yet, but dammit, y'all should watch that movie, so I'm tagging it and eventually there will be characters from it in the AG/SPN universe. They're so much better written than how this was handled in SPN that I can barely contain myself about it.
> 
> Posting all chapters in one fic (the first) for those who prefer long fic. But this is a chapter of a longer series in which Dean and Shadow are LGBT. Because I can.  
> 

Your eyes dart between Shadow and the person who is suddenly in your living room.

The person who just-- Who just--

Called you a boy.

Tinker Bell. Tinker Bell. Tinker Bell. Not a boy. Not a boy. Not a boy.

“Listen, you asshole. You don’t get to come around here. You definitely don’t get to come around here and hurt my friend--my best friend,” Shadow is growling.

Wait. What?

Also, Shadow is gently bracing you with one hand.

Cool. Okay. This is fine. Sort of. Sort of fine. Okay.

You can’t remember telling Shadow--well--enough, but you guess he knows. You guess he knows.

 

Shadow also seems to know who this is.

“We told you, Shadow, one day the war would be waged.”

“And? You expect me to be impressed? You little shit.”

“Well, I do have to say, Dean here’s been doing us a pretty significant solid. All that tech work. So pretty.”

“Shut up!” you manage. “Shut up, you motherfucking asshole. This is my house and you don’t get to talk to me like that.”

And the world warps.

Odin. Odin Odin. You are Odin’s own.

Odin!

You need his presence here, even if only in your mind.

The world is still warping and you feel sick.

“We will delete you!” the asshole in your living room is screaming, but it is a multitude of voices and they’re all screaming at you. “You willl comply or we will delete you!”

Shadow is grabbing you by the shoulder. “We gotta get out of here, it’s not safe. You’re okay but this place isn’t safe anymore. Come on, let’s go!”

And you both run. You get in Shadow’s car and you take the wheel wordlessly while he texts Laura goodbye.


	10. VII. The Time They Were Not On A Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Shadow fills Dean in and they are not on a date. Because of course they're not.

You are driving Shadow’s car as fast as it will go and you can’t really breathe.

“That asshole,” you just keep repeating.

“I can take over if you need me to,” Shadow says. “At the next exit.”

“That asshole,” you repeat. You’re still not entirely sure why you’re upset or when you’ll stop being that way.

“Don’t listen to him. He is a walking, talking piece of shit.”

“Is he really after me?”

“Us. After us.”

“What the hell is going on?”

“I don’t know the whole story…” Shadow starts. “When we see the next In n’ Out let’s pull over, I’ll buy us lunch and I’ll try to explain.

“You’re buying me a burger? Are we on a date?”

“I mean….”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

“Yeah, I know, but I mean...well not right now.”

You laugh. “I really was kidding. It sounds like you’re sort of not, though.”

“I mean, I’m just saying that I wouldn’t be opposed to, you know, like, dates with queers. Other queers. Besides the ones we know.”

“I see.”

“So am I buying you lunch or not?”

“Sure.”

*~*~*

You sit in the restaurant and Shadow is mostly watching out the window. “So I don’t know a lot,” he says, “But Mr. Wednesday--I mean, Odin, I guess--he’s been warning me.”

“Warning you. About a war?”

“About a war. Between the old forces and new. Between him and Technical Boy.”

“Technical Boy?”

“The asshole. I think he got in through computer wires or something, he’s a sick fuck who probably invented ASCII porn.”

“Ugh, one of those.”

“And Usenet.”

“Of course.”

“And, you know, other stuff, IRC, stuff you use.”

“Stuff everyone is using.”

“Exactly.”

You nod.

“So, my brother, my father, people like my family,” you suddenly are admitting, “They hunt things like him.”

“Really? No shit?”

“No shit. Completely not shitting you.”

“That’s….”

“It would be okay if they weren’t complete pieces of dung beetle.”

“Shit, yeah, I’m sorry.”

“My dad drinks like a fish….Sam...Uh. Sam is… just… well, he likes to hunt. Like, monsters. But I think...if there weren’t monsters… Sam would still...hunt things. People.”

“Shit, Dean.”

“Sam is...I don’t know. I basically raised him by myself, so maybe it’s my fault.”

“Tinker Bell. It is not your fault.”

You snap to attention and search Shadow’s face. He’s not looking out the window anymore. He’s looking at you. Dead at you.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Eat your fries or I’m gonna steal ‘em. We’re going to need calories for this mess.”

“I kind of love you.”

Shadow smiles. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you met me I was a fairy princess  
> I caught frogs and called them prince  
> And made myself a queen  
> Before you knew me I traveled around the world  
> I slept in castles and fell in love  
> Because I was taught to dream  
> I found mayonnaise bottles  
> And poked holes on top to capture Tinker Bell  
> And they were just fireflies to the untrained eye  
> But I could always tell
> 
> I believe in fairytales and dreamers' dreams  
> Like bed-sheet-sails  
> And I believe in Peter Pan  
> And miracles and anything I can to get by.....  
> And fireflies
> 
> "Life is hard, and so is love, child  
> Believe in all these things."  
> \- Lori McKenna


	11. VIII. Because I Was Taught to Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Shadow are leaving Berkeley behind and waiting for their next instruction from their strange benefactor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this crossover is a slow build for inclusion of everything I intend. I'm juggling a lot of fandoms and posting as I go. This is a WIP. I'm keeping it that way as it's my happy place. I hope you are enjoying it--you can also come back when it's complete, no hard feelings. :)

You are walking out to the car from the restaurant when you tell Shadow in the quiet of the open air. “You’re-the-first-one-I’ve-told.”

“Huh?”

“About. About Sam. About Sam. And some things about me, but I mean Sam. You’re the first one I’ve told.”

“Oh. Wow.”

You can tell Shadow is chewing on that revelation as you get in the car and he starts her up.

Silence falls and you just let him drive and drive and drive.

“Wednesday will show up,” he says, but he’s talking to himself.

You fall asleep behind him soon after that, thinking of Sam, and how pure it was to be at Berkeley, and how far you’ve come.

Because of Shadow. Because of Shadow.

When you wake up, he’s driving east.

“Driving just to drive,” he says, “Nothing from Wednesday yet.”

“This isn’t how I thought things would go.”

“Tinker Bell. You okay?”

“Y-yeah. I...just...never told anyone…”

“A lot of stuff you told me. I know. And I really, really, really understand. And I appreciate it so much.”

“You told the asshole that I’m your best friend.”

“I told Technical Boy you are my best friend. Because it’s true.”

“And you’re…you’re mine,” you say. “I want you to know, after all this.”

“Thank you. It means a lot.”

You are driving east and you are with your best friend and as long as you keep moving there will be no Sam. You will wait for a mirror. Everything will be okay.

*~*~*

You wake from a nightmare.

“Sssh,” Shadow is saying. “Okay, Tinker Bell. Tinker Bell. I got you.”

“Y-you’re the on--only one who knows...I don’t like my name.”

“People have known,” Shadow says, “I mean, I’m not that special--I just notice. And I respect you. It’s okay, Tinker Bell.”

“S-sam. It was Sam.”

“I know. You were yelling.”

“One day I think he--”

“Sssh. If he ever comes here we’ll handle it.”

“Sam had this bug collection. But he just collected ‘em to kill ‘em.”

“We’ll handle it.”

“Where’s Odin?” you ask in a voice that’s small even to your own ears.

“He’ll come when we need him,” Shadow says with confidence. “Right now, we got each other. You feel okay about that, right?”

“I… Shadow, how do you always know what to say?”

“Practice. Couple other things. Don’t worry, Tinker Bell. We got each other now.”

“But how--how is it not my fault?”

“Sam is his own person. How old were you when you were raising him?”

“Four.”

“Do you think whatever this is that’s going on with your brother, that it could be a four year old’s fault?”

“N-no.”

“So? It’s not your fault. You were a kid too. Raising a kid. You did enough. You did your best. Sam is Sam.”

“Peter Pan,” you breathe. “Peter--Peter Pan. He was always… Peter.”

“I know, Tinker Bell. But that’s over now.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you have me. I have you. We have each other, remember? And Wednesday. We have our own lives. You’re not still raising him.”

You nod, curt and military style. Okay. Yeah.

You have each other now.

*~*~* 

East. You are heading east and it makes you realize the tension is mounting.

“I’m going to miss it here so much,” you say. “And--and--having stuff, having stuff in my closet.”

“Just as long as you’re not stuck inside it, Tinker Bell. I know you will. I don’t know where we’ll end up.”

Shadow’s hand is on your knee and it is grounding and it doesn’t hurt and maybe this is okay.

“All my life I’ve been looking in mirrors and what I feel never matches up to what’s there. If it wasn’t for Odin showing up in them sometimes, when I really need him...I’d probably cover them all and never use them.”

Shadow nods. “I know.”

“Have you seen him in any yet?”

“Not yet. Not yet. But I’m looking. Ever since you started telling me who he was--how you see him--I’ve been looking.”

“Good. He’ll show. Somehow.”

And you do have faith he will. You’re just also not sure if he’ll be too late when he does.

*~*~*

You don’t want to fall asleep, but you do, you do, while Shadow drives.

*~*~*

Sam. Sam is just everywhere in your mind. Wearing green. Carrying weapons. Of course carrying weapons. Hunting.

Sam is hunting.

*~*~*

You wake up. “Pull over! Pull over!”

You retch into some bushes.

“Sam. Sam has something up his sleeve, Shadow. He really does.”

“Just remember I’m here,” Shadow says. “Just remember we have each other.”


	12. IX. News from Wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shadow's car breaks down and they are forced to stop for food. While there they find out where they are going, and who with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crossover is now fully complete as I've got all the people on stage that I need for this, woo. Welcome to the wild world of Gabriel (2007) crossing over with everything else.... that took longer than expected but it did work....

Shadow wakes you again. He has pulled to the side of the road. “Tinker Bell. Tinker Bell. Breathe.”

You feel done in for.

“You’ve been crying in your sleep,” Shadow says, and you swim back to reality--tears on your cheeks, and the burn of salt, pain in your throat.

You share a look.

Sam.

“Where are we going?” you ask Shadow. “Just...around?”

“Into this place,” he waves vaguely, “Whichever you want.”

It’s a rest stop with about five options, two of which look like they might do breakfast.

“Fifth one,” you murmur. “Shadow, I…. This is new. The dreams. Like this, I mean.”

“I know, well, everything’s new, everything’s speeding up. If we’re supposed to find Sam...we’ll find him.” You meet his eyes again. “I know you’re scared, Tinker Bell. I know. I am too.”

Your stomach rumbles loud enough for both of you to hear. “Food,” you say tiredly.

“Yes. It’s time for food. Come on, let’s go.”

There are people milling in and out of the restaurant. You and Shadow go inside. Only one other booth is full, though. There’s a man in a hoodie and a woman.

“I don’t want to eat in a food kitchen,” the man is saying, “Not when others need it more.”

“This isn’t a food kitchen, Gabriel,” she says, low, but you hear her. “I told you, it’s fast food. Anyway, we don’t have that many options, we needed gas.”

“How are the others getting there?” Gabriel asks, and there’s something about his voice, how it’s formal and just rings like--like--

Creature.

“How are the others getting there?”

You decide to listen. You remind yourself you are not a hunter, have never been, you were the one who stayed at home and made sure that Sam’s life worked the way it was supposed to, and you read books and got your 3.7 GPA but you know a hunt when it calls to you, it’s in your blood.

“Wednesday said--”

You inch closer to them.

“--the destination is the House on the Rock. If we’re going to find others like us then it’s our best bet. I don’t know how the others are getting there. But we have plenty in our van.”

You jog up to the line and tap Shadow on the shoulder.

“Shadow!” you hiss. “They’re talking about Odin over there.”

“What?”

“Well you said it would be a war. That means other people involved, right? They’re talking about Wednesday sending them--”

Overhead, a sudden clap of thunder booms, like in a bad B movie.

“The thunder,” Shadow says excitedly, “Sending them where?”

“Someplace called The House on the Rock,” you hiss-whisper.

“So what do we do, do we just...talk to them? Do we talk to them?”

“I don’t know, they could be the kinds of stuff my dad and Sam hunt.”

“Tinker Bell, we might have to. The car broke down here. I barely made it into the lot.”

“They have a van.”

Shadow sighs. “Listen, I’ll do it, you go sit and eat. You look like you’ve been hit by a bus, Tinker Bell. Calories.”

You do as you’re told, taking food to a table close but not too close to where Shadow is talking to them.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear you talking about Mr. Wednesday?” Shadow asks. “We--we’ve been looking for him.”

The one called Gabriel and his companion exchange looks.

“I’m Jade,” the woman says finally. “We’re on our way to see him. I mean, normally we wouldn’t, but with everything going on…”

“Tell me about it.”

“The destination is The House on the Rock. It’s a ways.”

“My friend heard you say something about a van--our car just died and I have this feeling….”

Jade laughs a little. “I know that feeling too. We have room for you.”

You walk over to Shadow and hand him his uneaten food. “I’m gonna miss your car,” you say.

“Too red.”

“Betty is nondescript,” Jade says. “Looks like a million ridiculous SUVs. We’re picking people up on the way, well it wasn’t the original plan, but given the urgency of the situation we figured it was the least we could do. We have a few people we need to stop in and grab.”

“Hey, no problem. No complaints here. I’m Shadow and this is….Call him Tinker Bell, he’ll appreciate it.”

“We are Gabriel and Amitiel,” Gabriel all but intones.

“Jade. His name is Gabriel, my name is Jade.”

“Right. Got it. Trust me,” Shadow is saying, “Nothing much surprises me, especially these days.”

“So we’re traveling with the Shadow. Well, nothing much surprises me these days, either,” Jade says. “Come on. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

You settle into the back of the van with Shadow, making sure you’re sitting together. You are still exhausted, and half of that is, you’re pretty sure, what your body is putting you through when you dream of Sam. If anyone’s going to be able to handle it, it will be Shadow.

 _The_ Shadow.

Well of course he’d be _the_ Shadow, he’s your best friend and they don’t make ‘em like Shadow really, anymore.

“So...the Shadow,” you say and smile tiredly. “Guess I lucked out.”

“Whatever you say, _the_ Tinker Bell,” Shadow teases.

“I could sleep for a week.”

“I’ll be here.”


	13. X. On the Way to the House on the Rock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shadow and Tinker Bell (Dean) are introduced to their traveling companions and head out on the road to the House on the Rock.

The thunderclap you and Shadow heard earlier has turned to torrential rain. Jade has taken the wheel of the SUV. 

“This is Uriel,” she says, offhand. She points to a man who looks perpetually crabby with long, dark curly hair. It’s almost like he looks familiar somehow….

Uriel rolls his eyes at the pair of you but stops when she says, “This is Shadow. Shadow Moon. And this is Tinker Bell.”

Uriel is studying Shadow closely and distracted from other things. “Hello.”

“Odin brought us to Shadow. And also...his traveling companion.”

Shadow exchanges a look with you.

Are you sure?

No, you’re not sure, but it’s your calling card--

“Dean Winchester. Goes by Tinker Bell but if you know them by another name it’s Dean Winchester.”

Shadow looks pained.

“Odin’s...yes. Yes, indeed, we do…”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Tinker Bell,” Jade redirects the conversation, shooting the rest of the people in the van a _this is how it is now_ look.

“I--apologize,” you are saying to them, until Shadow puts his hand on your knee, and shakes his head.

“Coffee...next rest stop can we get coffee?” you ask.

“Wait here. The traffic getting out of here’s ridiculous anyway.”

Jade seems to agree. “You look awful, Tinker Bell.”

“Sometimes if Odin really thinks I need somethng--” you start saying, but you deflate a little bit when Shadow lets himself out of the van and takes off at a run for the rest stop.

He’s back in record time and the cars have barely moved.

“Shadow.”

“I gotcha, Tinker Bell. I really do.”

“What’s going on with him?” Uriel asks, suddenly breaking his stormy silence.

“It’s--it’s a long story.”

“Try me,” Uriel says, giving his best cranky look.

And you--you just unhinge. “Yes, sir, sorry sir,” he starts, “It’s my brother, sir. Ever since he figured out what school I was going to, weird stuff’s been happening, weird stuff-- Sam--”

The air changes. 

“Sammael?”

“N-no. Sam. Sam Winchester.”

The creatures try to relax, but quietly, Jade murmurs, “Hunter.”

“Yes. He’s a hunter.”

“Everyone knows the Winchesters.”

The van scoots out of the parking lot and turns onto a side street. 

“The highway’s that way.”

Uriel barks out a laugh. “We’re not taking the highway, hunter.”

“I’m not--I don’t--I’m--”

“Tinker Bell is Tinker Bell,” Shadow says, “No more, no less, and if you want to get in her face about it you’ll have to go through me.”

You blink.

Shadow changed your pronoun.

But did he really?

You smile a little.

Her. It makes you think of a future you could have. Even if only sometimes.

“‘M sorry,” Shadow says, “Was that….?”

“That was perfect. That was perfect.”

Uriel smiles a dry smile. “When I got here...I chose my gender. I chose he. But it isn’t like that there, at home, he, she...we just are.”

You nod. “Yes. I just am.”

“That’s good, Tinker Bell. Very good. You are doing well on your path.”

Shadow squeezes your leg. “More coffee, Gender Wonder.”

You laugh long and hard, with the presence of mind to only drink some of the cofffee once you’ve stopped. The last thing you need is for it to be all over your clothes.

“I dunno though, you’d look good in coffee brown… but still, yeah, one thing at a time,” Shadow continues. “Good thinking."

And you feel okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this point forward in this bunny there are A) book spoilers for American Gods B) Show speculations for AG TV, and both of these things taking a slightly genderqueer turn due to genderqueer Dean and Peter Pan Sam/WWSD (What Would Sam Do?) At this exact point, we are leaving behind the territory of American Gods TV S1. Extreme canon-related geekery beyond this point.


	14. XI. Loosening the Grip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tinker Bell and friends discuss next steps.

You sleep beside Shadow and sleep and sleep. He pulls you in close to him and waits. Crossing the country, you have lots of time. When you wake, he’s there.

“Tinker Bell,” he says once in a wakeful period, “I know you want to do--be--more than just be _his_. Have you thought about other names?”

“All the time,” you say, fighting back tears. “But I don’t know, I can’t, I mean, Tinker Bell is--is--it’s enough sometimes.”

“I just think maybe there’s something better. I would never pretend I could tell you what it is. Just, I hope you think about it, my friend. You’re so much more.”

“Do you think it would stop the dreams?”

In the front of the van, Jade looks over at Gabriel. “Hey, Gabe. You wanna talk to them in the back?”

Gabriel looks back at them. “Would you feel you require my assistance?”

You exchange a look with Shadow.

“Am I...supposed to...keep them? Does it help you all? If I know where Sam--Sam Winchester is?”

Gabriel considers this. “I have my own ways. There is not a reason for you to continue to suffer--under your brother’s gaze.”

Shadow smiles a little sadly. “Remember, you’re nobody’s martyr. Not anymore.”

You blow out a breath. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Gabriel.”

“The God whom I know would wish for you to throw off your chains, Tinker Bell Winchester.”

“Yeah, um, is Winchester okay, just for now?”

“Indeed. As you wish, so it is written.”

You chuckle. “Sometimes.”

“I bet we can do better than that,” Shadow says, “But later.”

“It’ll take some time...to figure that one out. Right now I just want to be able to stay awake. I’m tired of living in Peter Pan Land.”

“Neverland.”

“What?”

“Nevermind.”

“No, trust me, when you’re in charge of all his shit, it is definitely Peter Pan Land.”

“All day every day,” Shadow grimaces. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

The van is on the side of the road and people shift around inside of it. Gabriel is visibly considering asking you to come outside but then thinks better of it and all but climbs into the trunk of the car and gets his arms firmly around you.

“Breathe,” he says, and in the next moment the cab of the SUV is filling with blinding light.


	15. XII. North Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's showtime!  
> (15/15 complete)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my crew. <3

You fall forward. Every inch of you is screaming as if you’re being turned inside out. Then you do scream, for Shadow.

You can barely breathe but you scream his name. You need your friend close to you--what if--what if something--?

“Okay, I gotcha,” Shadow’s voice is coming from far away and you can see that he’s holding you but you can’t feel him as a solid person, not yet.

“Hurts…”

“Gabriel,” Jade is saying from just as far away, “You’ve got to be more gentle.”

Gabriel doesn’t answer. He shoots her a look back that says, you know this is business as usual.

“Can’t breathe.”

Shadow leans his forward in toward you. “Count with me. I gotcha.” He doesn’t so much as send Gabriel a frustrated look. Because he is Shadow and he is the nicest person you’ve ever met and he is holding on to you now.

“Cal--California--boy,” you force out between labored breaths.

“I am.” Then Shadow does turn to Gabriel. “So did it work?” Then back to you. “Did it work?”

“Need...couple minutes, hold on.”

“Okay, just breathe. Jesus. Just breathe.”

Half an hour later your breathing is still shallow but you’re more in your body. Actually, you may be more in your body than you have been in weeks, and okay, that is probably--possibly--good.

The kind of good that other people assume is good. You’re not so sure. 

But all the same…

“It’s...it’s quiet now.”

“That’s good,” Shadow says, squeezing your shoulder.

“I still know where he is. I think I’d have Peter Pan radar no matter what anyone does to me. But it’s quiet. It’s quiet now.”

“Good,” Jade says. She shoots Gabriel a look that’s visibly equal parts grateful and angry.

“I sense Sammael as well,” says Gabriel, and then goes quiet again.

“Share with the class?” Uriel asks in his usual takes-no-shit tone.

“I shall,” Gabriel replies, unphased. “When we are closer. We are headed in the right direction.”

“Well that sounds promising,” Shadow mutters.

“It’s showtime,” you get out between wheezes, and Shadow laughs. 

“Winchester...you are hysterical. I’m goin’ to hell.”

“You and me both.”

Shadow only laughs harder, a laughter with knowing sadness in it. “No gallows dirt, no gallows deals, no gallows humor.”

You’ve both been around the Norse too long.

 

*~*~*

You are getting closer to the House on the Rock. You’ve started to see signs for it, though it’s announced for miles around, as the saying goes.

You’re getting closer to whatever Wednesday--Odin--wants you to. Whatever he has waiting for you.

You’re also getting closer to Sam.

You know it. 

You know it in your bones.

So this is the way it’s going to be.

The van is full. Raphael and Ithuriel are here with you now. Raphael was in worse shape than you when the van stopped for him. There’s a woman named Maggie here too who won’t leave his side.

At least a few of you have a fighting chance. And several even have Sam Lojack, so that’s a thing too, apparently.

Now it’s a matter of who hunts who.

There’s a lump in your throat and adrenaline in your veins. Something is coming. Something big.

Bigger than just this hunt.

And you don’t want to lose. You have so much to lose right now.

You don’t care how it looks--when you get within ten miles of The House on the Rock you take Shadow’s hand and he squeezes yours back and--yeah. That’s good. That’s just good.

You don’t want to leave him. You don’t want anything to get between you. You search his face and hope that he knows what you mean. It seems like what you need is mirrored back at you, but you hope that isn’t just wishful thinking.

Then he says something for the first time in five miles.

“No matter what, Winchester. I gotcha.”

And that’s okay too. More than Sam has ever given you. And it’s enough.

*~*~*

There is an eerie quiet when you arrive at The House.

Sure, people are coming and going, but it’s almost like they don’t see your van or anyone who gets in or out of it.

Neat trick.

Then you start to notice there are others your eye is just--skittering off of, slipping over.

Suddenly the eerie quiet that descended after Gabriel did his thing is starting to make you a little nervous.

Where is Sam?

Then you see the people you are supposed to be with. 

You would recognize your Father a million miles away, and it’s not by sight.

It’s Belief.

 _Odin_.

He looks up at you and he is not in a mirror.

He is not in a mirror.

Your heart is thundering and you take off at a run, not caring what anyone sees or doesn’t see.

“Allfather.”

“Hello, Winchester,” he says, gruff and gravel-y and as if he’s been privy to your every conversation.

Because he has. You know he has.

And then you are kneeling on the ground.

He smiles a thin smile. “Stand. Before you go inside I have something for you.”

You would recognize the bottle of mead anywhere.

“I drink this gladly,” you say, and his eyes aren’t exactly gentle but they are knowing. This is the perfect time.

Odin leads you to a picnic table that seems to have almost just materialized. “Yes. Good. Drink.”

“It is so good to see you.”

“Indeed, my dear.”

“Thank you.”

“I would never have let what is coming fall squarely upon your shoulders,” Odin says. “There is hope yet. There is always hope, even in the midst of war.”

Shadow comes up behind you. “Winchester has already been fighting bravely,” he says.

“This I do know. Both of you, come inside. The inner sanctum is neutral ground and there we will prepare. There are people for you to meet.”

*~*~*

Inside, Shadow breaks into a grin. “Anansi,” he says, and a man in a multicolored suit seems to peel away from the wall.

“Hello, my children,” Anansi says. “If there is one thing for you to remember today and at all other times, it is this.” He is clasping the hands of people as they enter the room, the room full of gods.

He clasps your hand. “Angry. Gets. Shit. Done.” 

And…

You are five. You tell Sam NO. His mobile spins and spins until it falls off the ceiling. And. You. Don’t. Care.

You are ten. When you don’t know how to make Sam’s split knee stop hurting he screams until the neighbors hang on the wall. And you’re angry. And you don’t care--you can’t.

You are six. When Sam is eating cup o’ noodles and you’re drinking water, water, water, you fall asleep crying--and angry.

When you walk out on both of them, when you remember that you are worth school and clothes and shoes and more in your life than just the empty road forever, your body is singing with anger because they have asked the impossible but they have not won.

When you are typing application essays in the library you are tired and angry but going to do it.

When you see someone shove Shadow in line at school he doesn’t say anything but you are angry and while you’re nervous you know that’s the moment you will become his best friend.

And now. You see the gods milling past you and the fire lighting in their eyes as they each stop with Anansi--Mr. Nancy--Anansi.

And when the fire comes today it will be against a thousand angry gods. 

And when you are separated from Shadow you will be angry but you will understand. You have always come to Odin through different paths and so it will continue. So it will continue.

You will leave differently than you came, finding your way through doctor’s offices and forms and you will be angry. You will be tired and you will be angry. You will be far past ready and you will be angry. You will take your first hormones and you will be relieved and angry. 

You will move from Pride marches to burned out buildings and stand with the anarchists and you will be angry.

And it goes without saying that Shadow will save the world. You have every shred of faith in that.

*~*~*

The meeting ends almost as quickly as it began. And when you exit the hallowed grounds of The House on the Rock and you are swarmed, all of you are ready.

Gabriel and Jade stand beside you on your left and Shadow on your right and you are ready.

“--Sammael--”

“Peter, at last,” you spit and hope the wetness reaches his putrid green outfit.

“Mr. World,” Shadow growls.

Sam WInchester may have been expecting one army, but certainly never three united.

You close your eyes and feel them gathering around you, all of the faeries. The ones who whisper in the ears of people like you.

And Sam is gone like a wisp of air.

*~*~*

When it’s all over you fall back into the very back of Betty. Maggie drives while you and the angels sleep the sleep of those who are completely spent. Shadow isn’t with you, and you don’t really want to deal with the world on your own right now, so you sleep.

You spend the next two weeks like that, but then you hear Mr. Nancy’s voice on the wind. Angry gets shit done. You remember you have things to do and people to fight for, including yourself.

“When Shadow can come home, he will.”

You aren’t sure who that is at first but then you smile. It doesn’t matter much--it’s coming from the north and that’s all you need to know. 

The wind doesn’t lie to you. It never has.

In the end you do it all--everything Anansi promised you would do, and more.

North. Soon you’ll be going north.

But not before--

“Winchester!” somebody shouts--your favorite somebody on the planet.

And if he’s been gone a while, well, the less said about it the better.

Time doesn’t mean much to you anymore, anyway.

You wrap him in a hug and all the time you’ve been apart collapses around you.

“Hey, California boy,” you say.

He laughs, warm and full. “You’re lookin’ good. You’re lookin’ like yourself.”

“And you saved the world. All so you could see me, right?”

“If you insist.”

You both laugh, gallows humor laughter.

“Listen, seriously--I wanna get out of here. I….”

“...wanna go home,” you say.

“Yeah. And I wasn’t goin’ anywhere, not without you.”

“Ditto, buddy.”

“Yeah, ditto.”

You both smile, tired but satisfied.

“Let’s head north.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Book 2 begins here.
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/11577768/chapters/26016576

**Author's Note:**

> My endnote disappeared for some reason. THIS IS NOT THE END. There is a book 2. Book 1 is split into parts because that's how people were orginall reading it. Book 2, Northern Exposure (p13) is not split up! So there is a part 2, it is about 10k as well! Also this is an ongoing series and I'm still working on outtakes and oneshots where Dean is doing various things! Protests! Etc! That wasn't just a one off reference, this Dean really does that stuff. See more in Northern Exposure (Tinker Bell book 2.) :) More stuff being written.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Northern Exposure (Tinker Bell Book 2)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11577768) by [roguefaerie (samidha)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samidha/pseuds/roguefaerie)




End file.
